The slow flood of the Nile reflected the sorry files of the bible, the army of Cambyse and that of Alexandre, the riders of Byzance and the riders of Al, the soldiers of Napoleon, when passes above him the sand wind, undoubtedly my old woman memory mixes it with indifference bursting it dusty condition with the triumph of Ramsès, has the strict dust which falls down behind the overcome armies, and sands it dimpé, the Nile finds the carved mountains, the colossi by which the motionless reflection accompanies since so a long time its murmur by eternity, looks at, old river of which the risings allowed the astrologers to fix the oldest date of the history, the men who will carry these colossi far from his fertile and destroying water, they come from all the ground, which the night fall and you will reflect the constellations once more under which ISIS achieved the funerary rites, the star that Ramsès contemplated.
but most horrible of the workmen who will save the effigies of ISIS and Ramsès will say to you what you know since always and what you will hear for the first time, “it is only one act on which prévale neither the indifference of the constellations, nor the murmur eternal of the rivers “it is the act by which the man tears off something with dead “
Here I thought of the gods transformed into statues of draws up eternal recurrence to visible sorrow in the night of his hypologia of Karnak, to the sphinx, the gods do not die, they lose their capacities of royalty, but their membership of the forever unknowable field which they suggested, that they had been born from the other Egyptian world, or which it had been born from them, they were not more close to him, which fish out of water, of the characters of tales, the figures which imported with successive interpretations of Hornis and Osiris? the gods do not have a direction, if the olympe does not have any any more, Anubis the embalmer does not have his, if E mode of dead does not have any any more, each god had belonged to the imperceptible mode of truth which had adored the men, Egypt had recalled Osiris to the life by its prayers and recall we it to it by his form and by his legend, everywhere safe by the prayer, it reappeared neither in the truth nor in the unknown, but in the bright rooms of the world of the art which was going to succeed this cargo of centuries of a vessel of Pharaons failed in the pashas, the metamorphosis of the doubles of civilizations descended the sad staircase from the museum of Cairo between the wigs of the priests and the skins of panthers constellated with gold stars, through a cemetery of gods.
but most horrible of the workmen who will save the effigies of ISIS and Ramsès will say to you what you know since always and what you will hear for the first time, “it is only one act on which prévale neither the indifference of the constellations, nor the murmur eternal of the rivers “it is the act by which the man tears off something with dead “
Here I thought of the gods transformed into statues of draws up eternal recurrence to visible sorrow in the night of his hypologia of Karnak, to the sphinx, the gods do not die, they lose their capacities of royalty, but their membership of the forever unknowable field which they suggested, that they had been born from the other Egyptian world, or which it had been born from them, they were not more close to him, which fish out of water, of the characters of tales, the figures which imported with successive interpretations of Hornis and Osiris? the gods do not have a direction, if the olympe does not have any any more, Anubis the embalmer does not have his, if E mode of dead does not have any any more, each god had belonged to the imperceptible mode of truth which had adored the men, Egypt had recalled Osiris to the life by its prayers and recall we it to it by his form and by his legend, everywhere safe by the prayer, it reappeared neither in the truth nor in the unknown, but in the bright rooms of the world of the art which was going to succeed this cargo of centuries of a vessel of Pharaons failed in the pashas, the metamorphosis of the doubles of civilizations descended the sad staircase from the museum of Cairo between the wigs of the priests and the skins of panthers constellated with gold stars, through a cemetery of gods.
